It is 1993, and Cedric Jennings is a bright and ferociously determined honor student at Ballou, a high school in one of Washington D.C.’s most dangerous neighborhoods, where the dropout rate is well into double digits and just 80 students out of more than 1,350 boast an average of B or better. At Ballou, Cedric has almost no friends. He eats lunch in a classroom most days, plowing through the extra work he has asked for, knowing that he’s really competing with kids from other, harder schools. Cedric Jennings’s driving ambition–which is fully supported by his forceful mother–is to attend a top-flight college.
In September 1995, after years of near superhuman dedication, he realizes that ambition when he begins as a freshman at Brown University. In this updated edition, A Hope in the Unseen chronicles Cedric’s odyssey during his last two years of high school, follows him through his difficult first year at Brown, and now tells the story of his subsequent successes in college and the world of work.
What makes one child succeed against the odds? Determination and a positive role model are often cited as important factors. A parent or a respected adult who believes in the child and encourages him/her can play a large part too. Yet, many still fall short. Cedric Jennings is one of the lucky ones.
Suskind begins Cedric’s story in 1993 when he was a junior at Ballou High, a substandard school deep in the ghetto of Washington, D.C. It had a double digit dropout rate and violence often erupted both in the school and on the streets. Being smart and succeeding were definitely not cool. Cedric, an honor student, was willing to forgo popularity, take the abuse, both physical and verbal, to follow his dream -entrance into an ivy league college.
Being accepted at Brown University was a dream come true, a dream with many characteristics of a nightmare. He entered an unknown world, a white world of privilege. Not only were his past experiences entirely different, his speech, his dress, his way of interacting were totally foreign. It was as if he had entered another country not knowing the language or the culture. Each setback made me hold my breath; each success I breathed a sigh of relief. Cedric’s resolve again made the difference. He graduated from Brown with a 3.3 GPA majoring in education and a minor in applied mathematics. He went on to Harvard and earned a master’s degree in education and to the University of Michigan for a second master’s in social work. He is currently working in that capacity giving back to the community from which he came.
This book grew out of a series of articles the author had written for the Wall Street Journal, articles that won a Pulitzer Prize for feature reporting. What makes this book so much more than an unlikely triumph was the warmth, the love I could feel between Cedric and Suskind. There was total trust and honesty. This closeness continues as they celebrate holidays and special events together. Suskind continues to give a large portion of the proceeds of this book to Cedric and his mother. Suskind and Cedric have my admiration.
The five stars go equally to Ron Suskind the author and Cedric Jennings, the hero of the book. As any other review will tell you it is a story about a boy from the ghetto who somehow managed to learn something in his gang-infested high school (think Gangsta's Paradise) and made it to one of the Ivy League universities.
If you think this is some sort of Chicken Soup for the White Liberal Soul then you couldn't be more wrong. Basically the conclusion is: shit is bad, real bad. The challenges that Cedric had to face were many and of various kinds. Things that affluented white Americans take for granted, Cedric had to learn from scratch. The boy struggled not only academically but socially and culturally. And my heart went out to him and mind you, I am not the kind of person that even admits to having a heart at all. Don't tell my boyfriend but I think I developed a crush on Cedric.
Ron Suskind is not bad either. The social observation and psychological analysis are of greatest quality. There is nothing in the book that sounds patronising and judgemental. Suskind had a great idea of removing himself entirely from the narrative and making Cedric the focus of it, so we see the world through his eyes, rather than Suskind's. I know quite a few authors that are way too egocentric to even consider doing that because they just love starting their sentences with 'I'.
There were a few moments where I just had to smile, usually when Suskind tried to explain something about hip hop or r'n'b to his readers. It gave me that feeling you used to get when you were a teenager and your parents tried to be cool and engage in a conversation with you about some 'cool stuff'. And you felt slightly embarrassed but also warm inside because you knew they were trying.
Enough. Go read it. It is good. It had me on the edge of my seat when I was waiting with Cedric for each exam results. I even got excited when he was going through some calculus problems (stuff that normally sends me to sleep in no time).
This was one of the last books I read before I moved away from Washington, D.C. It's signed by the author with a nice little note. I was working for a teacher's union and volunteering at an elementary school in Northeast D.C. and this book really hit home. Everything Ron Suskind wrote about Cedric Jennings I saw first-hand with some of the students I worked with. It really got me thinking about the failures of affirmative action and how much further we need to go to ensure that all children have equal access to a quality education.
I had just read Hillbilly Elegy when I started reading A Hope in the Unseen. I think they make fantastic comparisons. I greatly preferred JD Vance's Hillbilly Elegy for the simple reason that it is an autobiography rather than a biography. With A Hope in the Unseen, a white woman reading a book written by a white guy about what what a black kid is experiencing. So I didn't feel the sense of immediacy and trust that I had with Hillbilly Elegy. Not only that, Ron Suskind seems pretty clueless-- he writes at the end that black journalists were asking him whether he, Ron Suskind, was black. Suskind takes this as a compliment-- like the black jouranlists were so impressed with his language that the reader just can't tell that it is actually written by a white guy. I'm thinking the black journalists were trying to indirectly have him reflect on why it takes a white author to get a story about a black kid published for mass market. If I were Ron Suskind, I would consider that question from black journalists as an opportunity for him to reflect on whether it is appropriate for a white man to tell this story. Ron Suskind also makes sexist observations about the young women in the book. (For example, there was no need to discuss the exact weight and height of one of the high school girls.)
On the other hand, I really love the subject of this book. I live in DC and my kids attend public schools. In fact, Jefferson is the designated in boundry middle school for us. Jefferson is a fascinating school and I appreciate the spotlight this book shines on Vera White (I think that's her name-- the former principal of Jefferson). This principal "poached" academically promising public school kids from other neighborhoods and brought them to Jefferson where, as indicated in this book, she was a strict disciplinarian who would kick out kids that didn't toe the line. The test scores were high and students at Jefferson would often go on to the very best high schools in DC, private and public. After she left (Was fired? I don't know the story . . . ) the school became like a typical neighborhood DCPS middle school. Anyway, reading about how Cedrick was swiftly kicked out of Jefferson for misbehavior does make one wonder what could have been if Jefferson had used less punitive discipline? What if Cedrick had been allowed to stay? Would he have gained his footing and gone to a better high school.
Conversely, what if Jefferson hadn't been an option for him at all-- what if he had been required to attend whatever middle school was in his neighborhood and had not spent a moment at Jefferson? Would he have had the same expectations of himself as the rest of the kids that had gone to that neighborhood middle school and then gone on to Ballou? If Cedrick was the only kid at Ballou that had previously attended Jefferson, maybe that goes some way to explaining why he was so different than his fellow classmates.
The end of the book hints that as tough as Ballou was in Cerick's time it is even worse now. Is that because there is no school like Jefferson anymore? As problematic as a school like Jefferson was, perhaps the benefits outweighed the deficits?
Envision a mother and her six-year-old son standing outside an apartment house on the wrong side of Washington, D.C. The mother bends her knees so she will be on a level with the boy. She directs his vision down four long blocks to the school he will attend. On every corner boys, young men are gathered---drug dealers. The mother says to the boy, "You cannot look in their eyes. The Devil is in them, and if you ever look in their eyes, the Devil will take you for his own. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Don't look to either side." And then she sends him off on a trial journey. The boy does exactly as he is told. When he returns, the mother repeats her admonitions and gives him a key to the apartment. She will not be home when he returns from school. He will be a latch-key child at age six in one of the worst neighborhoods imaginable. She works as a clerk in a government office
That little boy is the subject of this book. His survival is a testamony to his mother's determination that he will use education as generations of Americans have used it, as steps out of poverty and black ghetto life. Her husband had left the family, and while he returned occasionally, she was the breadwinner and sole responsible party for her children. She had one helper, her church. She assured that boy and his brothers and sisters were either in their own house or in the church when they were not in school.
The schools he attended were mediocre at best, but he used them well. In high school, he found a group of kindred spirits and several teachers who nurtured his ambition. He was an optimist. He wanted to go to an Ivy League school, though he'd only read about such schools. But he knew they could open doors for him that would help him get his family out of the poverty in which they lived , and he believed if he worked hard enough, he could succeed at one.
Brown admitted him and assigned him a roommate whose father owned an island in the Caribbean. The roommate was nice, but neither could overcome the gap that loomed between their experiences. And nothing in his experience equipped the black boy to succeed at a high level. My heart ached for him and for his mother as she continued to encourage him.
I could not help thinking how much better this kid's life would have been had he attended a state university, where he would have found kindred spirits. The work still would have been difficult at first, but not so difficult as the work at a school like Brown, and this kid was ambitious and would have succeeded. He would have known the feeling of real success, not merely a passing mark. And because kids in state universities generally are career-centered, he likely would have developed that orientation earlier. In a cross section of Americans, he would have flourished and found himself.
It raised questions in my mind about the final value of an affirmative action that takes a child from a black ghetto school to the Ivy League in one step. Are the personal losses worth the giant leap? Would a good public university with a diverse student body not be better, because it could offer real peers and not make a person feel somehow lesser because of his origins? Are Americans so innocent they believe such leaps are simple matters?
I came away from this book with a vivid sense of life in a world I did not know and an admiration for a mother so powerful and determined that she could rear a child who did not succumb to his environment and a church that supported her ambition. I will never forget the scene in which she sends that six-year-old on a practice walk to school and back. A great read that also raises questions that deserve consideration.
A Hope in the Unseen Ron Suskind 390pp. Broadway Books ISBN 0-7679-0126-6
Do you know who you are? Do you know what you want to accomplish in life? In this book Cedric Jennings struggles with answering those two questions. He is an African American struggling with finding his identity. His determination pushes him forward and his determination and hard worked pushed him to become a student at Brown University, an Ivy League school. Cedric’s friends, the few that he has, tells him that he is not fit to go to one of those Ivy League schools. They keep on reminding him that he will forget where he came from and who he is, and that those schools are going to push him to hard to the point where he might dropout. Did Cedric dropout? Did Cedric lose his identity?
Cedric is an honor student at Ballou High Schools in one of Washington D.C most dangerous neighborhoods. The dropout rate is in the double digits and only a few of the students that go there have an average of a B or better. He is ashamed of his accomplishments because he is one of the few that are passing and he gets at times bullied about it. But that doesn’t stop his work ethic. But it does stop him from making friends because they are jealous of his accomplishments. This made me want to respect my accomplishments even more because it’s not my fault that I decided to work hard to have a future. It’s your fault that you decided not to.
When Cedric arrived at a preparatory program at MIT, he sees that there is a lot of competition and a lot of comparing. The students always compared there SAT’s scores. I know that this may sound normal. But it hurts to say your score when you know that everyone around has a higher SAT score than you. It makes you feel out of place. I felt like that when I was reading that scene because this has happened to me of times before plenty and I know how it feels. But this makes you want to work harder or study a little bit longer so that you want have to feel incompetent. It makes you feel that you can compete with these students.
Finally Cedric arrives at Brown University and he notices that he is the few minorities that goes there. Everyone knows that it is sort of easier to bind with people who are similar to you because you feel an understanding with them. But being in a school where there aren’t a lot of minorities makes it hard for him to bind with people. Also the fact that he really didn’t have any friends in high school makes it hard for him to bind with people because he might not know how to. It makes him want to work a little bit harder for people to notice him and to accept him for his personality.
Ron Suskind did a great job displaying how minorities handle the change from coming from a high school where you were the shining light in the teacher’s eyes to having to work harder in an Ivy League school because you are at a disadvantage in background knowledge. While reading this I really related to Cedric and made me think “is this how it is going to be like if I get into an Ivy League school? Am I going to feel misplaced and lost.” Then I get discouraged because I don’t want to go through what Cedric had to go through. But yet I am inspired because his hard work paid off and he graduated. Then I feel like I can be successful no matter what the consequences are. Suskind is a writer who makes you think of all aspects. He inspires you to keep moving forward even when all odds are against you and he shows you how through Cedric.
It's almost hard to believe that Suskind tailed this student for four years and still had time to eat, sleep and keep a job. I was actually incredibly skeptical, given the level of omniscience in the narrative, but I felt a lot better after I read the book's acknowledgments.
Even so, to write this book, the vast majority of scenes had to be reconstructed. I remain a bit skeptical because people invariably act for the camera, if not the reporter, and embellish when they recount any formative or significant incident.
On this point, too many of the scenes were too good to be true. Too many lines were perfectly crafted and suspiciously poignant.
You're telling me that Cedric, an adorably clueless yet bitter and introverted teenager who struggles for recognition and individuality throughout the story, didn't exaggerate some of the events? Come off it. But even if he didn't, Suskind must have taken great liberties while filling in the blanks.
Time after time, he expounds upon these unbelievably cogent and introspective internal monologues Cedric is supposedly having as an event unfolds. Honestly, I don't think the human brain even works that way. No one cycles through their entire year of experiences to answer a yes or no question.
If it was 20/20 hindsight, then I think it would be more believable if it was presented as Cedric's recollections and not his split-second reactions. Sure, we all produce an insightful gem in conversation once in a while, but Cedric has to be a genius if Suskind is not embellishing. However, I don't think that's the case because a big part of the story is about the almost comically juvenile poem Cedric writes because he doesn't have the analytical or verbal skills to produce an expository essay.
What makes it even more suspicious is that the supporting characters who become the focus for about a third of the book - like Cedric's mom, the pastor, Dr. Korb, etc, - offer completely believable scenes.
Don't get me wrong: I really liked this book because it was interesting to read and the reporting was nevertheless impressive as hell. It was just too convenient for comfort.
Suskind also subscribes to the notion that "ish" is a an appropriate suffix for any word. I think this is both wrong and irritating. Smallish? Maybe. Darkish? Perhaps. Tallish? If you say so. But quietish? Even the Goodreads spell check doesn't think that's a correctish word.
The true story of an inner city boy followed by Suskind as he studied his way into an Ivy League school. My discriminating friend Jill recommended this book; it was my first of 2004. I told her afterward that it was a gift to have my "book voyage" of 2004 launched with such a powerfully affecting read. Here I am...marveling at the skill and meticulous care with which Suskind approached this project. There are layers of issues integrated between these book covers. It may be the clearest view I've glimpsed into what it means to grow up in the inner city, and to identifying the tools unequally distributed but required to access education. Tools I've taken for granted.
From another perspective entirely, this story brought my own college and law school years back to me in vivid chunks. I was affected by the universality, beyond the cultural and underlying the personal, of the fears, and the strengths we draw on, to face and overcome obstacles. And by the range of efforts, some wincingly misguided, others breathtakingly incisive, to reach out across cultural boundaries and make a difference, or at least attempt to understand. And here again was that thread I've been following about religion as a cultural force, for better and for worse.
There are authors who've overwhelmed me by their lyricism, or their willingness to take breathtaking risks, or their ability to weave far flung worlds of knowledge into their work. The thing that impresses me most about Suskind is his integrity. Integrity to this story, to the characters who lived it; and in his commitment to accurately record the truth of this journey.
Integrity is a pretty fine note on which to start a year.
This book opened my eyes to the conflict that comes from breaking out of oppressive circumstances, for hard work and support from a strong mother is not enough to get Cedric a guaranteed future of success. Cedric still has many societal barriers to face at Brown University. The "Unseen" Cedeic is told to have hope for was not getting out of Ballou High School and into Brown University, for Cedric. A host of new difficulties arose once he was off the streets and in the hallways of Brown, and in many ways, these problems are almost more difficult for Cedric to navigate as they require more from him than calculus problems and math proofs require. He has to find his place and identity as an individual in an environment that is determined, consciously or not, to see him as a boy from the hood. In light of the current racial tension (I read this during the shootings of two African Americans by police officers which was followed by the Dallas protest and attack on its police officers), this book illustrates the difference between privilege and non--showing that the gap isn't necessarily always an intentional racism but a societal stereotyping that has been around for such a long time it has become a norm for many people. This book got me thinking about how I see this gap between privilege and non (and privileged/non doesn't always mean white vs. black--as the book points out, there are differing degrees of privilege....some of Cedric's African American peers at Brown were more privileged than he was, and that gap, while maybe smaller than the gap between white privilege vs. non privilege, can be divisive and conflicting.
Incredible is the word that keeps coming to mind. The incredible power of a mother who genuinely believed in her son, and the son who believed his mother. Not this helicopter nonsense that passes for belief but a real belief that results in consistent discipline and selfless sacrifice. The incredible power of real faith when faced with difficult circumstances. Not "I'll say it till it happens" but the real kind of faith that moves mountains. The incredible power of the right kind of help at the right time. Not dumbing down, not "pass them even if they didn't learn it", not coddling, but the real uncompromising kind of help that says, "you can learn to do this". The incredible power of teachers who face incredible obstacles and looked past all the disappointments to invest their time and talents in helping one more just in case this time, it will be someone like Cedric. The incredible power of sharing one's story, the struggles and the successes that made this such a great read. It is the kind of story that will return to my thoughts for a long time.
My sincere appreciation to all who contributed to bring this story to light.
As a disclaimer: I read this book for a diversity in education class, which may have impacted how I read it.
In general, I could certainly tell that it was written by a journalist, rather than a novelist; it read very much like a very long article. This doesn't mean that the writing was bad, but it was certainly more expository than I would expect from a book. There was a lot of telling, rather than showing, since the author was working to present what the characters were thinking without misrepresentation.
I also had some doubts reading it as to how unaffected the main character (Cedric) could be, and indeed when I read the afterward, the author talks about following Cedric around his entire freshman year, and about how all of his dorm-mates knew he was to be the main character in a book. How could these things possibly not influence how they reacted to and around Cedric?
On the other hand, it is an important story, and an important insight into the lives of young people in the inner-cities. I am glad that I read it.
Just finished rereading A Hope in the Unseen in advance of discussing it with my AP students, and I am blown away by its quality and depth. Several students have already told me how much they're enjoying it--though maybe that's because our last read was Hamlet!--and I am hoping the discussion will be excellent.
The story of Cedric's journey from the inner city of DC to the lawns of Brown University is a fascinating one on many levels, and the book is worth reading even tho it takes place in the mid-90's. Its questions of racial diversity and divides, of opportunity and loss, of self-protection and risk, are all really deep questions that play into the idea of the American dream as much today as ever. As a teacher, a parent, and an optimist, I'm fascinated by the story, and I hope that my upwardly mobile, lucky, white students will be too.
“Once they arrive, affirmative action kids are generally left to sink or swim academically. Brown (University) offers plenty of counseling and tutoring to struggling students, but, as any academic Dean will tell you, it's up to the students to seek it out, something that a drowning minority student will seek to avoid at all costs, fearing it will trumpet a second-class status.”― Ron Suskind, A Hope in the Unseen: An American Odyssey from the Inner City to the Ivy League
Cedric Jennings is a brilliant student attending one of the worst high schools in Washington D.C's most dangerous neighborhoods. The dropout rate at his school has been in double digits for years and he is mocked relentlessly for being so serious about his grades. Does he have a hope of making it out of Ballou High School and fulfilling his dream of attending an Ivy League School?
This is his journey towards discovering himself and finding his future. Cedric is aware that while he might be the best student in his high school, he is really competing for placement against other kids who are from other schools with better education programs.
The author does a terrific job of displaying how minorities remain disadvantaged within the education system. He also shows how Cedric has to work extra hard, not just at his studies, but at trying to fit in with a world he knows nothing about.
“He was confronted at an early age with adult-strength realizations about powerlessness, desperation, and distrust, taking his dose right alongside the overwhelmed adults. This steady stream of shocks and realizations leaves so many boys raised in poor, urban areas stumbling toward manhood with a hardened exterior masking deep insecurities.”― Ron Suskind, A Hope in the Unseen: An American Odyssey from the Inner City to the Ivy League
An inspiring read about a brilliant mind who has the odds stacked against him.
A Hope in the Unseen by Ron Suskind is an interesting narrative that made me think a lot about the incredible struggle of balancing different worlds academically, socially, and culturally within oneself, and the various crossroads one encounters journeying through life.
Ron Suskind's personal observations and analysis of Cedric's struggles growing up in one of the most dismal inner cities and schools highlights the inequality of education and social isolation that Cedric is only aware when he moves outside of his first world. Cedric's self analysis, determination, and his awareness of the breadth of the divide will be instrumental if he is to rise above and overcome seemingly impossible circumstances.
This book is also refreshingly honest, and in many ways inspiring. Leaves one with much to contemplate, and debate regarding education in our lower income and inner city schools, and one's ability to change his/her socio-economic status/tax bracket.
To be blunt, this book is racist and judgmental. All of its high-and-mighty proclamations about how having ethnic student groups on campus is some kind of separatist compromise? The judgmental attitude towards young people of color wearing brand name clothing? The idea that an older white guy can accurately write a young black mans story? The idealization of an Ivy League education? The proclamation claiming that things shouldn't be so much about race, then the obsessive racialization of everything? The lack of context of the legacy of slavery, redlining, education funding being tied to property taxes, devaluation of people of colors contributions to academics, etc?? How can the author get so righteous about poor black kids' survival tactics, without event noting the larger forces that oppress those young folks and privilege others? Ugh I'm over it.
I read this as a TA for the LAR (freshman seminar) class, and I absolutely loved it.
I find myself getting closer to Cedric every page I turned because in some aspects I could relate to him, even though there were certainly aspects I couldn't have. He pushed against limitations, those set by the people and the environment around him and even went beyond what i think he thought he was ever capable of doing. He had many setbacks, but he never let that stop him, and what incredible courage and heart that took. Cedric found himself at the end of the book. He was confident in who he was and stopped letting his past define him.
His journey from a high school in the inner city of Washington, D.C. to Bown University, an Ivy League, is one that is so incredibly inspiring and unforgettable. I have no more words.
A tale of an inner city young man as he travels from his bottom of the barrel DC high school to Brown. The book is known as one that challenges the reader on the issue of affirmative action. It does. More specifically it challenges the idea of "letting in lesser students" into an environment like Brown. But there is also a sub-theme about how girls are doing better than boys. Oh, yes, the so-called boys crisis is in here too. But it's framed in a much better way that I've seen before because it really deals with violence in our inner cities.
I read this book for a seminar class I'm co-teaching this fall. Can't wait to hear what the students think.
How do you reach a star? You keep your eyes on it, turning neither to the right nor left, and just continue until you get there. Suskind opens the world of an inner city young man who does just that. Whether by nature or nurture, Cedric Jennings had the determination to hope that his life would not end the way it began. The book allows you to see how the real world is from Cedric's viewpoint while grazing topics such as university affirmative action quotas. Whatever side you're on, you can't help but appreciate Cedric's navigation of a system that all too often fails.
This was my other "looks interesting" pick from a display table at the library to fill time in between requested books being available. I read Suskind's book "Life, Animated" that he wrote about his autistic son, and he referenced his work on "A Hope in the Unseen." I found myself quickly invested in Cedric's life and the choices, opportunities, and struggles that he faced. Even though this book described a time from 20 years ago, I feel that it accurately depicts the reality that so many students from low-income, high-crime schools still face.
Three stars isn't enough for this book, but it's not quite a four either (especially after reading THE HELP, which was absolutely fantastic).
Even though this book is non-fiction, it reads like fiction. It's fascinating to consider what Ivy-League college would be like as a minority student who came from a single-parent household where faith was the center of everything. Good writing by Suskind and enlightening overall.
I enjoyed this book simply because it spoke of many of the experiences I had with my students or that my students did have in Philadelphia. I think it provides a small window into an urban students struggles. The book also opened a window into what college might be like for some of those students I had.
Growing up in Long Beach, I thought I had a good grasp of the challenges of ghetto life. Turns out I had no idea how challenging it is to fight the odds when no one wants to help you.
This is a well-written chronicle of Cedric Jennings' journey from inner-city kid to Ivy League graduate. It was moving, it was gritty -- it was real.
Very well written account of a gifted black student from D.C. The obstacles Cedric Jennings encounters as he struggles through probably one of the worst, most dangerous, crime ridden high schools are seemingly insurmountable. And the difficulties continue as he continues his education at Brown. Very informative and eye opening. Every white person needs to read a book like this.
This was a nice book, but reading it left me wanting more. The author's treatment of Cedric's life is a bit shallow and there were many points when I wish that both his writing and his understanding of Cedric went a little more in depth.
Wow. A really inspiring book about a kid who nearly all by himself goes from a forsaken inner-city high school in Southeast D.C. to Brown University. An amazing piece of journalism, with a ton of heart.
I recently reread this excellent book. It offers a first person account of a young man's path from a broken inner city school to the ivy league. Well worth a read for anyone interested in issues of diversity and education.
this was a most rewarding book! thank you Dennis for giving it such a great review that inspired me to dig in. (lately I avoid such long books, but this was worth it.) with all the conversations I've been having about race, lately, this was a perfect insight I needed. humbling in many ways.
just a really inspirational and eye-opening account of the obstacles faced by folks in the inner-city...a book that makes it more difficult to sweat the small stuff in life.